


A Servant's Game

by crookedneighbour



Series: A Beast in Human Skin [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, M/M, Monsters, Supernatural Elements, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-14 18:49:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4575744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedneighbour/pseuds/crookedneighbour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ramsay comes home behaving oddly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Servant's Game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [briancap](https://archiveofourown.org/users/briancap/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Lord's Sport](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3329639) by [crookedneighbour](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedneighbour/pseuds/crookedneighbour). 



Reek approached the Great Hall with caution. Ramsay would want his Reek at his side after his hunt. He made it very clear Reek was to be there. His Lord was so gracious to allow to wander Winterfell.

Ramsay and his father were silent. A wolf's hide lay on the ground between them still fresh. The reeds were darkened with blood.

"Your cuts have improved," Roose noted, looking over it.

"Have they, father?" Ramsay replied softly. He seemed amused by the compliment more than anything. He'd be in good spirits hopefully. "I'll tan it myself, if you like."

It was almost as if he was teasing someone in his voice, and yet his face was respectful and solemn. It was odd he hadn't noticed Reek yet. Something was different about his lord. Reek feared for the worst.

"Surely, you have better uses for your time, the new lord of Winterfell? You have servants for such things," Roose replied. There was a game a foot. He wasn't sure what it's goals were or how it would end. Reek suspected his own involvement was inevitable. Perhaps this one would hurt less.

"I made you a promise, didn't I? I'll do this myself," Ramsay insisted. He spoke gently, more like Roose than himself. It made Reek's skin prickle. Ramsay finally turned to him.

"Oh yes, there you are, creature," he said. His steps were quick and elegant. "Come away with me, would you?"

Theon nodded. These things were never questions.

 

He was taken to Ramsay's chambers. Ramsay glanced over the room slowly as if looking for something. A tub of hot water had been brought for the two of them along with some rags and lye. One of the girls gave Theon a pitiful glance. It was better than her being disgusted, even if he did deserve it.

"You're in poor condition. Rather dirty aren't you?" Ramsay observed. Reek nodded. He was wretched, coated in filth and sweat from sleeping aside the dogs. Grime sat underneath his finger nails and made his wounds fester. He smelled of his own waste and the rotted scraps the dogs had left behind. Ramsay looked him over slowly, tugging at his rags thoughtfully. "I suppose someone should put a stop to it."

Ramsay's face slowly lit into a smile. It made Reek feel as if there were flies crawling across his skin.

 "I like it this way m'lord," Reek mumbled. Ramsay had tried to trick him before. It wasn't fair when he played games like this.  
 

Ramsay's face hardened into a frown. 

"I didn't ask if you liked it, now did I?" Ramsay teased, his voice spider soft. "Now get undressed. These rags will have to be burned."

Reek's stomach turned in panic. Ramsay surely had to be testing him. These were a gift. He was fairly certain there was no good answer here; take off the clothes and he refuse his lord's gift or keep them on and he was disobey an order. Perhaps his pinky would be best. It was small and the flaying would go faster.

"Well...?" Ramsay insisted.

"...I..." Reek stuttered.

"As they're filthy these rags are getting burned. It's your choice if you'd rather be in the tub or still wearing them." 

Ramsay gave this threat as casually a he might greet a man, his arms crossed.

Reek moved quickly after that. As the rags fell to his feet he wondered if these were the last clothes he'd see. He hated being looked at, the way Ramsay's boys pointed at his scars and sniggered about his missing parts.

"Get in. Must I really spell this all out for you?" Ramsay sighed. Reek scrambled over to the tub compliantly. There was a hiss as his old clothes met the flames of the hearth, and a soft plunk as his broken body met warm water. It hurt a bit but it wasn't bad. The ache was oddly soothing. Perhaps he should try to loosen his muscles. Ramsay always had his skin one way or another.

At first Ramsay just watched him. It was eerie how quiet he was. It was easier when he was loud, Reek knew what he was thinking then.

Ramsay approached slowly, his steps were almost methodical as if calculated to resound at just the time to stop Reek's heart in his chest. Ramsay stood above him now, bent over and looking down. Transfixed, Reek looked up. Ramsay's dark hair hung down from his head, cloaking his face in shadow. His pale eyes gleamed on though. 

"You're far too disgusting for me to even consider touching you. Clean yourself up," Ramsay ordered. His thick lips parted and his tongue moved behind his teeth. Reek could have sworn there was a darkness in his throat. "I'll be inspecting you."

Ramsay stepped back, his long hair tickling Reek as it brushed over him.

Reek picked up the rags and lye and began his work. Behind him Ramsay hummed to himself. Reek did not recognize the melody. He had to get this just right. If this was really what Ramsay wanted he'd best do it well. It felt nice to clean himself even if he could feel Ramsay's eyes on him. As his hands drifted over his own scars it was as if Ramsay's hungers were a tangible force in the room. Reek shivered, the lye slipping from his fingers.

Ramsay sighed and rolled up his sleeves.

"I'm going to have to do this myself if I want it done right. It was foolish of me to think otherwise," Ramsay said

Reek's eyes winced shut. The touches were gentle, but unwanted. Ramsay's hands were cold, like brief touches of winter across his bare skin. He continued to hum to himself as he worked. His fingers circled Theon's scalp slowly, then traced down the line of his jaw.  Eventually there came the dreadful twitch of Ramsay's thick fingers running over his nipples. With his eyes shut he was more sensitive, but it was better than seeing Ramsay's face. Reek whined reflexively as Ramsay's hands settled on his ribs.

"Hush. I'm not interested in your body as it is. You'd break too quickly. I'm planning something special for us," Ramsay soothed. Outside Reek, Ramsay's hands glided through the water, Ramsay's breath filled his nostrils, and then Ramsay's knife met his throat. This would be a nice way to die.

Unfortunately, Reek didn't.

Ramsay had lathered Reek well and the hair quickly fell from his jaw and neck. His skin was cold and sensitive. Perhaps there was another journey in store for them.

"Perhaps the maester will have something to make your hair grow back sooner. You were such a pretty prince before," Ramsay mused.

"But I'm not a prince, m'lord. I'm Reek."

Ramsay let out an amused noise.

"You're whatever I say you are."

\---

Walda looked over their newest fur, a wolf's skin as supple as any. Ramsay had been so polite when he brought it. It frightened her. He'd looked so much more like Roose then, so different, and yet nothing about her husband's son had changed. Nothing concrete at least. Roose had said torchlight played tricks on imaginative men. Perhaps she was no different.


End file.
